


tiny lil TWRP fics

by snowquail



Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Gen, moth phobos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-01-10 10:51:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12297696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowquail/pseuds/snowquail
Summary: a bunch of teeny weeny standalone ficlets that are too small to post by themselves. tags will be updated as needed!





	1. party blower noise

**Author's Note:**

> moth man has moth mouth

Phobos sat idly on the couch, paging through a book he’d found on the table that morning. Shuffling lower onto the couch, he kicked his legs up onto the opposite armrest and settled in. The morning had started out grey and rainy, and Phobos had left his helmet in his room, confident that the light levels would stay low enough to be comfortable. Words trailed by at a pleasant pace, telling of fantastic worlds and thrilling adventures, and Phobos found himself getting lost in the story. Every so often a joke or silly remark would float by and he would laugh silently, antennae twitching.

A muffled thumping sounded from above and down the stairs and -

“Oh, hey Phobos!” Sung appeared from around the corner, wearing his bright yellow track suit. “I’m about to go out for my morning jog, but hey, yesterday I read that some moths have proboscises that are longer than their entire body! Is that - do you…?” He waved around somewhat awkwardly but nonetheless was still smiling curiously.

Phobos blinked. “... Are you prepared for if the answer is yes?” He signed, staring now unblinkingly into the visor of his friend.

Sung froze for a second, opened his mouth, then closed it. He stayed silent for a moment, and then nodded matter-of-factly. “Well, I'll leave you to it then!” He stood abruptly from his chair and moved in the direction of the front door, waving a single finger gun at Phobos. And with that, he was gone.


	2. best quality: his wiggles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> he didn't make dessert, he made some fun

Meouch yawned, pulling on a faded t-shirt. He’d stayed up a little later than he meant to, but hey, it’s not like anything was happening tomorrow. They’d just gotten back from touring and were taking a good chunk off the calendar to relax, so he could sleep in if he wanted. But first, water.

“Gotta get that sweet hydration,” he mumbled. He pushed through the door to his room and made his way down the stairs, only a little surprised to see light coming from the direction of the kitchen. Sung was definitely already asleep, but Phobos was generally nocturnal and Havve would occasionally stay up. The rhythmic shuffling sounds were unusual though. He peeked around the doorway.

Phobos was bouncing - dancing, even - around the kitchen, holding a plate of red jello. He set the plate down on the counter, still bouncing to a beat only he could hear. He started signing something, but with his back turned, Meouch couldn’t make out what it was. He padded quietly into the kitchen, watching Phobos with a grin.

“See it jiggle.” His signing was animated, filling the space in front of him.

“Dude, are you singing the Jell-o jingle?” Meouch asked as he reached up to grab a mug from the cupboard.

Phobos jumped, almost smacking the jello off the counter, and whirled around to face Meouch. A beat passed and Phobos blinked.

“... Yeah.”

Meouch laughed. “Awesome. I’m just gettin’ some water and then I’m gonna get some z’s. Save me some jello, though?”

Phobos huffed in amusement. “Sure.”

“Heyy, thanks, bud.” Meouch turned the faucet off and started back towards the hallway, softly humming the rest of the jingle.


	3. some arts n crafts-y shit or something

Havve had been working on something for the past couple weeks. Not secretly, he’d just hang out in a chair, hunched over and peering down at something, but he was working intently enough that none of the boys really wanted to bother him. Meouch was pretty sure he’d seen a needle, though, so. Hm.

Meouch sat slouched on the couch, absentmindedly fiddling with a game controller. Sung had started a new Breath of the Wild file but then gotten wrapped up in a different hyperfixation, so Meouch had picked it up. Havve had come in at some point and curled up in the chair on the other side of the room, but he hadn’t really paid him any mind. He’d been too busy trying to drop metal boxes on the old dude. Well, until Havve nodded once, apparently satisfied. The slight bob of LED eyes caught Meouch’s attention, and he looked over.

As usual, Havve was gazing down at something, except now he wasn’t. He was holding up… fabric? In a hoop? Meouch sat up straighter, curious.

“So uh… what’cha been working on there?”

Havve looked up. And stared. For a long moment. Meouch shifted in his seat again. He was about to open his mouth, unnerved and wishing he hadn’t said anything, when Havve looked back down at whatever it was and then slowly held it out, face up. Meouch set the controller down next to himself on the couch and leaned forward to see what exactly it was.

It was, in fact, fabric in a hoop. It was some arts n’ crafts-y shit Meouch didn’t know the name for, but it looked nice. Embroidery, maybe? He was pretty sure his grandma used to do that. Anyways, there looked to be a tree, and then some lines next to it with occasional bits of grass or weeds or something. Most of it was text, though, and now that he took the time to read it, it said, “ _Behold! The Field in Which I Grow my Fucks.”_ (Meouch let out a single surprised laugh), “ _Lay Thine Eyes upon it and See that it is Barren._ ”

“...Dude.” He grinned.

“IT WAS AN EXPERIMENT.”

“It’s _awesome_. D’you wanna hang it up in the hall or something?”

Havve took a moment, judging whether Meouch was being sincere. He was.

“...THAT WOULD BE ACCEPTABLE.”

 

\- - -

 

“Hey, d’you think I could give that embroidery stuff a go?”

Havve nodded.

  
A few days later, another hoop appeared. The stitching was a little clumsy, but the swooping cursive letters, bordered with flowers, read, “ _H’suh Dude._ ”


	4. backyard meandering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> started as a kind of elaboration on this post (https://mothphobos.tumblr.com/post/170389904826/a-quick-mothbos-thing) but i got distracted by gardening
> 
> also: mothbos has got a mouth more suited for solid foods in addition to a proboscis, it's just hidden under fluff most of the time. it's p much just like a caterpillar's.

Phobos sighed, pulling both his hoodie and his t-shirt over his head and depositing them neatly on the deck railing.

June had just begun, and it was starting to get warm and bright enough during the day to remind him of sunbathing in the summers on his home planet. A couple small clouds drifted leisurely in the sky, but the sun shone bright and warm overhead otherwise.

He shrugged his wing cover off and lifted the tails of his wings out, then stretched, arms forward and wings back. Relaxing again, Phobos flapped twice gently, and then set the cover down on top of his hoodie.

He took the few steps down off the deck and into the yard, making his way over to the garden in the center first. The separate plots were in various states of growing, but everything was thriving nonetheless. Sung’s spinach plot was looking leafy and green, and the small patch of echinacea Phobos had planted earlier that year was just beginning to bloom, a nice splash of bright pink right in the field of green. A row of carrots was looking just about ready, and bright red strawberries peeked out from under leaves the next plot over. Phobos stepped over towards the strawberry plants and crouched down to look at them.

The strawberries, still a little on the small side, shone a vivid red. They weren’t quite ready to be picked yet, but they would be very soon. Phobos looked over the plants, pulling aside leaves until he found one strawberry that had fallen off, and was resting on the soil. He picked it up and looked down at it, brushing the dirt off on his shorts. It had fallen recently, still a healthy red as opposed to a sickly one. It was on the small side, but, it’s not like anyone else was going to do anything with it.

Phobos looked over his shoulder back at the house. No one. He turned back to the garden and took a bite out of the strawberry. He hunched his shoulders and squinted, wings twitching. It was still sour. He popped the rest of it into his mouth, chewed it as fast as he could, and swallowed with a shudder. The sweetness of overripe fruit was definitely more to his taste, but he'd started it, and it was small enough that he might as well finish it. Besides, he rarely ever got to eat fruit fresh off the plant anymore, so he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity.

He stood up and stretched again briefly, but then idly made his way to the hammock close to the edge of the yard. It currently rested next to a deck chair under the shade of a tree, but once Phobos got to it, he pulled it the couple yards into the sunlight.

In one smooth motion, Phobos swept his wings back and half-flopped into the hammock, then wiggled around until he was lying comfortably on his front. Resting his chin on his arms in front of him, he relaxed, wings falling until they lay flat on either side. He sighed once, content, and then drifted off to nap.


	5. moth noises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wrote this one a while ago and forgot it existed until now woops enjoy

“Hey, bud, can I uh, can I ask kind of a weird question?”

Phobos hesitated for a moment, but inclined his head in a ‘go for it.’

“You understand universal and everything - well, obviously - but, I was just curious, do you, like… can you speak it?” Meouch paused and blinked, leaning back against the fridge, “Or, _could_ you? Since... you’ve got that weird noodly thing as your mouth, I was just kinda wonderin’ how that would work.” That wasn’t the most eloquent phrasing, but whatever.

Thankfully, Phobos seemed more slightly amused than anything else, and he shook his head.

“Nah. Wrong mouth parts and all. Translators worked well enough though,” he signed.

“Huh.”

Phobos fell into contemplation with a heavy expression for a few moments, absentmindedly sipping the tea he’d made for himself earlier on the counter. He’d finally gotten to a point where he could talk about his planet and his home and be okay with it, but he wasn’t sure how comfortable it would be for his friend. He thought for another few moments while Meouch looked on, a little curious, and then gave the tiniest of half-shrugs. Time to test the waters.

“My language was based on pitch. Sounded like humming or buzzing, I think.”

Meouch’s curious expression faltered slightly at the past tense, but didn’t vanish completely. “Yeah, I - I think I remember hearing something sorta like that. Was… a while ago, though.” He stumbled through his words, half regretting them as they left his mouth. Phobos didn’t seem phased, though. More wistful than anything, and that made Meouch feel better. A little.

“You’ve heard me speak before, actually.” Phobos signed, almost out of the blue.

Meouch opened his mouth but cut himself off before he began, instead giving Phobos an apprehensive, but confused stare.

“I was… yelling at you. And Sung. When we met.” He shrugged a little ‘I thought it was obvious’ shrug.

“Wait, _really?_ ” Meouch’s mouth popped open, surprised. “I remember that! Hurt my ears.”

Phobos huffed, good-natured. “You actually understand a little bit of it. There’s a version of it that’s playable on guitars, and that’s what I was using for that bit before I learned sign.”

“You - really! Wow. Huh,” Meouch paused, lost in thought, but then looked at Phobos again. “What do I know?”

Phobos snorted quietly, decidedly not going "LMAO THAT'S A GOOD QUESTION," and tried to recall what all he’d been saying around Meouch for those few weeks. “I think… mostly just yes and no. Thank you. And uh. Fuck off.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”


End file.
